


sex in the air, i don't care

by LadyAlice101



Series: you a dirty little lover [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Cracky, F/M, Sex Swing, but a great time, hints of Daddy Kink, ish, this is complete nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 19:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAlice101/pseuds/LadyAlice101
Summary: “I bought you guys something,” Theon says quickly, because he just wants to get this over and done with now. “As a way to apologize for being a dick, and as a formal admittance of my defeat.”Sansa softens, and smiles at him. “Oh, that’s sweet, but you didn’t have to. Watching your face as you realized I was the champion was enough for me.”Theon rolls his eyes. Classic, competitive Sansa.“It’s a sex thing,” he tells them after an awkward beat.They both frown at him for several long, quiet, tense seconds.“I’m confused,” Sansa finally announces, as Jon leaves her side to push past Theon and look in to his room.“Um, Theon . . .” Jon says, in a tone that Theon is not in the right frame of mind to decipher.





	sex in the air, i don't care

**Author's Note:**

> complete trash but who cares tbh, it's my birthday today and this bs is my gift to myself haha

As has been the case recently, Theon comes to regret his entire life very quickly.

You try to make a heartfelt apology, and this is what happens.

If he were thinking about it logically, of course – if he’d been thinking about _any _of this logically – then he wouldn’t have made such a decision so callously.

But he’d been trying to be _thoughtful _with his apology, and instead of getting Jon and Sansa a normal apology gift – like, oh, a _candle _or bunch of _roses _or maybe a fun book or some shit – well, he’d gone a little rouge . . . if he’d been a normal person, then he wouldn’t be in this position.

There’s no fucking _way _he’s getting this thing put together by the time Jon and Sansa get back from their date.

As if his forlorn thought has conjured them, he hears the front door click open.

Theon scrambles to his feet, because he’s not being caught in Jon’s room when those two are post-date, okay, he’s learnt his fucking lesson about how horny those two assholes are.

Theon swings around the doorframe right as Jon and Sansa reach Jon’s room. They both jump back in shock, and Jon blinks in surprise several times – Theon hardly ever finds himself in Jon’s room.

Sansa, however, quickly gains her footing, and smirks at him. “Theon,” she says. “Were you waiting for us in _Jon’s _room? Decided you wanted to be part of that threesome, then?”

“I wish I’d never learnt about your deviance,” Theon declares.

“I think he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to fall in to bed with us, darling,” Jon says, hand curling around Sansa’s hip.

“Well then what were you doing?” Sansa asks Theon, raising her brow at him.

“I bought you guys something,” Theon says quickly, because he just wants to get this over and done with now. “As a way to apologize for being a dick, and as a formal admittance of my defeat.”

Sansa softens, and smiles at him. “Oh, that’s sweet, but you didn’t have to. Watching your face as you realized I was the champion was enough for me.”

Theon rolls his eyes. Classic, competitive Sansa.

“It’s a sex thing,” he tells them after an awkward beat.

They both frown at him for several long, quiet, tense seconds.

“I’m confused,” Sansa finally announces, as Jon leaves her side to push past Theon and look in to his room.

“Um, Theon . . .” Jon says, in a tone that Theon is not in the right frame of mind to decipher. Trying to build that thing has been worse than putting together IKEA furniture alright, he’s frazzled and hungry and frankly, his wallet is seriously angry at him for splurging on this godforsaken thing.

Sansa ducks under Theon’s arm to see into the room, obviously curious after Jon had trailed off in confusion.

“Huh.”

Theon hurries to explain himself. “_Look, _when you two were trying to freak me out you mentioned you wanted a sex swing but that it was too expensive, so . . .”

Theon half expects Sansa to laugh at him, but she just turns to him, wide eyed.

Still, rather defensively, he says, “I was trying to be _thoughtful.” _

“You should return it,” Sansa says. “That’s a lot of money Theon, and you weren’t so much of a dick that my victory wasn’t penance enough.”

He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well hey now, Sans,” Jon says, hand reaching out blindly to cover her mouth. “He’s bought it now, no need to return it –“

Sansa rolls her eyes and shoves Jon’s hand away. “Seriously, Theon, use this money for your own sex equipment. Or go on a holiday somewhere or something.”

“Careful now Sansa, you might offend me,” Theon smirks. “You don’t like my extremely well-thought-out and not-at-all-difficult-to-assemble gift?”

Jon turns to him with serious eyes, and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Mate, you should go out for the night.”

Yeah. Well thought out, indeed.

Theon rolls his eyes, then says, “I’ve been trying to get this thing together for hours, and I’ve not managed it. You two aren’t going to be able to get it together fast enough to use it tonight.”

Jon glances over to Sansa, eyes travelling up and down her body, and Theon looks away because _god _those two are fucking indecent. Seriously, how did they even _hide _such behavior from them all for so long?

“Trust me, I have an incentive,” Jon says, squeezing Theon’s shoulder then letting his arm drop.

Sansa wanders into Jon’s room and flops on to the bed, while Jon immediately kneels at the mess of poles and canvas strewn over the floor at the foot of the bed.

Theon hesitates, wondering if he’s going to help, but _fuck it, _this was his gift and maybe two hands are better than one.

So he nudges the instructions over to Jon with his foot, and takes a seat beside him.

“I, uh, am also not sure how you’re going to fit it in here,” Theon admits. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Sansa’s been begging me for one of these for weeks,” Jon says. Theon would rather be in silence than know that, and that’s saying a lot because he fucking _loves _talking. “As a token of our appreciation, we’ll try and keep our use to a minimum.”

“No we won’t,” Sansa pipes up from where she’s scrolling through her phone.

“_Sansa_,” Jon reprimands. “Yes, we _will._”

“Okay, _Daddy,” _Sansa teases – but teasing who, Theon isn’t sure, because Jon turns to Sansa with a deep groan while Theon yelps and jumps to his feet, kind of offended.

“No, _no_!” he says, slightly too loudly. “None of that – this is a safe space you fucking _cunts, _none of that weird bullshit allowed!”

“You’re the one who bought a sex swing,” Jon mutters, turning back to their work.

_God _he regrets his entire life.

“We’ll tone it down,” Sansa promises, then pulls her phone back up in front of her face.

Theon takes his seat beside Jon again, grumbling the whole time, then stares forlornly at the disassembled parts.

“This is fucked,” Theon announces, picking up a pole.

“I think you’re overestimating the difficulty,” Jon says thoughtfully, scanning over the instructions. “It’s just a four legged frame. How hard can it be?”

“Jon, I swear to fucking _god _if you ever utter the phrase _how hard can it be _to me again I’m going to smother you with a pillow.”

Jon looks over to Theon, eyes squinted and brow furrowed.

“Uhh . . .”

“No, I’m fucking legit,” Theon says. “Don’t ever fucking say it to me again.”

The bed creaks behind them, and Theon turns to see Sansa standing and staring down at them, phone in hand.

“You two are hopeless,” she announces. “_Despite _my new manicure, I’m going to get this together in like five minutes.”

“Oh, did you get a manicure?” Theon asks, at the same Jon says, “Sansa this is so fucking hard, please save us.”

Sansa drapes her hand in front of Theon’s face. He grabs her palm, looking over the peach colour.

“Cute,” he says. “How much?”

She scoffs. “Thirty five. Ridiculous, but I’ve got a party on the weekend.”

“Thirty five!” Theon repeats. “That’s extortionate! _Fuck _the patriarchy. Do you know the other day, I –“

“Let’s start our revolution tomorrow, yeah?” Jon interrupts. “Sansa, my darling, please bless us with your creative ways.”

Sansa waves them both out of the way, and they perch atop the bed, watching as Sansa moves quickly and deftly.

“Should we be timing this?” Theon mutters as Sansa achieves post after post.

“It’s like putting together a tent,” Sansa decides. She puts the last of it together, then reaches down to pick up the canvas hammock. “Alright, Theon, once this is on I make no promises about toning it down.”

Theon stands immediately. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about joining?” Jon asks from behind him.

Theon blinks, then looks down at Jon, and then to Sansa, and back to Jon.

“He’s the one who wanted you to join us,” Sansa explains. Theon turns to her, lip curled in confusion. “I’m not opposed. You’re kind of like a brother to me but we’re not actually related so I reckon I’d get over it. Besides, your ladies always leave pretty satisfied.”

For a second, Theon forgets himself and actually considers it. Sansa is, like she’s said of him, like a sister, but she’s always had a nice body – long legs, which Theon loves – and Jon is certainly enviable as well, with the curls and the lips. _They’d _probably show _him _a couple things, which could be fun –

No, what the fuck is he _thinking? _He lives with Jon, and Sansa _is _a sister, it’s way too complicated. Having a goddamn threesome with them would probably be one of the worst decisions he’s ever made – and he’s made a lot. He’s got a bit of experience seeing bad things unfold in advance now.

“Keep your kinks to yourselves,” Theon decides. “And, uh, have a good time?”

Sansa smothers a laugh, while Jon outright chuckles.

“There was a few people in the pub on the corner,” Sansa informs him, putting her hand on his shoulder and guiding him from the room. “Maybe you can pull someone and we’ll get in to a – what’d you call it? Oh, a _fucking contest_.”

“Not my brightest moment,” Theon admits easily, hands held aloft in defeat.

“Good night, Theon,” Sansa says, voice tilted meaningfully.

She shuts the door gently, and Theon takes a second to take a few deep breaths, because that was all super weird and he needs to get back in to the real world.

“A sex swing, huh?” he hears Sansa’s voice from behind the door.

“Be a good girl and get in there for Daddy,” Jon’s voice demands, muffled though still commanding.

Theon shudders.

Yeah. He’s going down to the pub.

**Author's Note:**

> come make friends with me on tumblr @ladyalice101


End file.
